turning and turning in the widening gyre the falcon cannot hear the falconer; things fall apart; the centre cannot hold mere anarchy is loosed upon the world the blood-dimmed tide is loose, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; Surely some revelation is at hand; SECOND STANZA Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand; A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds. Great workshop 👍